Chapter VI (2)

This misfortune is, however, gravely reckoned one of the “vices” of the stable. It is seldom repeated; but a single instance is sufficient to confer the “vicious” character. Poor animal! When even mishaps are regarded as the planned results of its deliberate wickedness. Having so many virtues, yet not credited with a single good quality! Wholly and entirely misunderstood! Else, who in this accident would not perceive intelligence striving to invent some solitary pastime, which might while away the flagging hours? Else, who would not recognize that this evil arose out of the foolish custom of tying up an active creature to a manger? Else, who could fail to discern that a loose box would have rendered such an injury a positive impossibility?

The author is aware that were horses fitly housed and properly treated, the expense of maintaining these creatures must be increased. But against all additional cost there are benefits to be balanced. The animal would live more than thrice as long; it would, for so much greater period, be fit for its master’s service. The accidents occasioned by modern stables would be abolished; the sickness and the disease, produced by inappropriate food, by rigid confinement and impure air, would cease to exist. With change of building, there should also be a thorough change in the stable attendant. The present race of knowing deformities are too full of tricks to be worthy a gentleman’s trust. The groom should be forbidden ever to mount an animal, save in obedience to his superior’s special command. Now the men ride at their pleasure; as a consequence, they very rarely walk. The quadruped is supposed to be only one person’s property; but the poor drudge has to serve “two masters.”

Under the present system, the horse is relinquished to the pleasure of the servant. The man’s report constitutes the all of a proprietor’s knowledge. The mansion, therefore, reflects the ignorance and the prejudice of the stable. The persons occupying the buildings should change places. Most masters ride slowly, merely exercising the nags. Most grooms love speed, and in reality wear out the lives which credulity thinks sacred to another’s service. Yet, though surrounded by abuse, ill-treated and often robbed of its food, the creature has no voice with which to accuse or to complain. There is no one who even cares for its welfare. It is credited with every “vice” and supposed to delight in malice. It is imprisoned, beaten, libeled, and nevertheless gentlemen are often encountered who pride themselves upon the care and the money which are lavished upon their stables.

When all that concerns mankind--the formation of their houses, their kind of food, their dress and manners, their laws and customs--have, with the progress of the period, thoroughly changed; even to such an extent has this alteration been accomplished that it has been often said, were our ancestors resuscitated, they would not recognize the land of their birth; it becomes very painful for the mind to perceive that the habits and usages which formerly surrounded the horse remain to this day all but unaltered. It is a proof of the indifference which encircles the stable, when the buildings erected to receive horses at the Royal Veterinary College, and which date from the last century, are, at the present moment, regarded as models of perfection. Man cares only for himself: of his property in the life which he imprisons, he evidently takes no heed. He pays dearly for his carelessness; and “the beast within his gate” shares none of those blessings which Providence has allowed the human race to enjoy, although religion should teach him that the mere mention of such a possession by Deity, ought to enforce a duty upon humanity!

Another so-named “vice” of the horse is frequently the occasion of more serious results than any of the before-mentioned accidents. No person has hitherto explained why the skin should be more irritable by night than during the daytime. Such, however, is the case with horses, as it is with men. A quadruped in the morning is often found disfigured by the hair being removed from comparatively large surfaces. Itchiness has provoked the animal to rub itself against any prominence, or to scratch its body with the toe of its iron shoe; this indulgence has caused the blemish.

Itching and scratching are numbered among the worst “vices” of the stable. Such faults, however, are only discovered in their effects; the groom never estimates, when flogging an animal for this wickedness, how far the abhorred sin may have been produced by stimulating diet, by want of exercise, and by impure atmosphere. No! He clothes up the body of the animal; shuts every window; stops every cranny; and locks the stable door for the night. The last meal being consumed, and the quadrupeds not being inclined for sleep, they one and all begin to itch. Legs are nibbled; necks are rubbed; and tails are lashed. At length one is sensible of an irritation behind the ear. The head is turned toward the side; the body is curved to the full extent; and the hind leg brought forward. Then, the groom not being present, the toe of the hind shoe can touch the part, and the horse luxuriates in a hearty titillation.

When the head was turned toward the quarters, however, the collar-rope, being attached to the halter, was also stretched in that direction. The hind foot having performed its office, a desire is felt to return it to the natural position. The attempt is made; but this is found to be impracticable. The creature strains against the opposing force, but its struggles only render its comfortless attitude the more fixed. The truth is, that while devoted to the act which allays cuticular irritability, the pastern has slipped over the collar-rope. Such a mishap not only fixes the leg, but fastens the head. With the neck bent and one leg disabled, the animal cannot exert half its power; neither can simplicity comprehend the source of its unnatural constraint. Long continuance of the position becomes painful; alarm seizes upon timidity; the struggles grow desperate; and the poor quadruped, at length, is cast with terrible violence upon the straw which had been shaken down for its repose.

The animal is lucky which should be overthrown in a limited space and escape serious misfortune. It can hardly encounter such an accident and rise from the ground uninjured. The slightest consequences are contused wounds or fractures of small osseous prominences. The worst result, however, usually follows the body being forcibly contorted throughout an entire night. Bones have been dislocated, or a limb has been so sprained as never to have recovered its functions. Necks have never afterward been restored to their pristine grace of motion; and, in short, a valuable servant has, by such a misfortune, been so “wrenched from its propriety,” as to be rendered utterly useless. Nevertheless, the groom will persevere in hailing the fate of an animal which has been cast in the collar-rope as a just punishment induced by the sufferer’s inveterate “vice.”

Carters are open to complaint, because their horses are “cast in the halter,” even to a greater degree than those of town grooms. In agricultural districts, it is a common practice to turn the teams out to graze during the night, and to take them from the field to work in the morning. Some animals, however, prove troublesome to catch, preferring the cool grass and partial liberty to exhausting toil upon an arid roadway. To facilitate the capture of such quadrupeds, many carters, when freeing the creature, will not remove the halter, but suffer it to remain, because this affords a ready hold for the person who fetches in the horses on the following day. The result is easily anticipated. The ear itches. The foot, scratching the part, gets entangled, and that which was a valuable horse on the previous night, is found, in the dawning light, to be a disabled cripple, or a worthless carcass.

The sane mind will, however, behold in this misfortune only a startling proof of the folly which ties the head to a manger, and leaves the animal at the hazard of a fearful accident. Such events have been common ever since the race was first domesticated; yet, to this day, the custom is practiced. Where one quadruped enjoys a loose box, ten thousand are confined to the manger. Neither loss nor the spectacle of the misery produced by his folly seems able to instruct man where the life of another is delivered over to his keeping. As, in America, the master coerces and lashes his slave, so, in England, do proprietors starve, torture, and slay the animals which all pretend to love. The devotion of a life cannot even purchase those necessaries which are needful for the preservation of health. Though the strength and the service are contingent upon the maintenance of bodily vigor, man, with the capriciousness of tyranny, is neglectful of that upon the continuance of which the value of his possession entirely depends.

It may be urged that the size of the horse’s body necessarily limits the dimensions of its abiding-place. This is a strange reason; but it is one commonly used among architects. We, however, do not apply the principle to our own race. Because the Horse Guards are tall men, we do not insist they should sleep in infants’ _cots_, or wear the clothes of children. Giants are not forced to inhabit the houses fit only for dwarfs. Neither do we carry out the maxim with other creatures. Large rabbits boys put into large hutches. Were smaller horses desired, ponies, even no higher than full-sized dogs, are not scarce. But greater weight and strength enable the quadrupeds to perform larger services. Does it not seem like meanness to select size for our own purposes, yet, where the creature is concerned, to make size a motive for stinting the necessities? The horse is useful to man in proportion to its magnitude; and the poor slave, therefore, ought not to feel the bulk to be its misfortune!

The author cannot here report the grooms’ opinions upon such a topic, though, doubtless, these persons would be the advocates of misrule. There is no class, however, which suffers more than stable-men, from the present custom of confining horses. On cold, wintry nights, when snow is on the ground, these persons, who generally live above the stable, are often awakened from their first sleep, forced to leap from warm beds, and, thinly clad, to hurry down stairs to quiet the horses. The entire stable are lashing out at the same moment. Each hoof seems to be leveled at the stall post, which all violently strike; hence the disturbance.

But what occasions horses to kick by night? That question is perhaps best answered by another. What occasions children to cry by night? Both wake suddenly, and each finds darkness or solitude and silence around it. The horse is a timid creature, and it is of a limited intelligence. Children are not generally conspicuous for courage, and, in them, the reason is undeveloped. Infants are born with a natural sense of helplessness; hence they are the easy victims of alarm, and when frightened, they scream aloud. Horses are brought into the world with an instinctive dependence on the propulsion of the heels, and when frightened, they kick. Children have startled up from fearful dreams, and have screamed themselves into fits. Animals also dream; horses having awakened suddenly, have used their heels as a defense, and have been found lying dead upon the ruins of a battered wall in the morning!

The feet, when cast out, hit the stall post. The blackness of night prevails throughout the place; or fear being kindled, the vision is abused. No eye can pierce utter darkness, and terror lends shape or form to every obstacle which the hoof encounters. The dread which sleep has generated, the awakened perception seems to confirm. The animal lashes out with redoubled violence. The noise made by the act soon arouses its companions. Nothing is so sympathetic as horror. Armies have been actuated by panics. Why, therefore, should animals escape from such senseless emotions? When thousands of men have scampered away from no existing peril, cannot the reader understand that many animals may be impelled by a feeling of fear, when no danger is present?

This is sooner admitted, when it is perceived that the fancy is active in proportion as the intellect is weak: the groom, not having a very powerful understanding, nor having yet slept off the potions and fumes of the previous evening, curses those “vicious varmints,” as he shiveringly opens the stable door. No sooner, however, does the candle illumine, or his presence destroy the loneliness of the place, than fearful eyes cast backward glances, and seeing nothing, all instantly becomes silent. Our engraving of the above incident represents every horse in action; though, frequently, the more slothful will remain passive, notwithstanding the tumult which prevails around them.

This is the effect invariably produced, as soon as the quadrupeds have sufficiently mastered their terror to regain their natural perceptions. Sometimes, however, a minute may elapse before consciousness is perfectly restored. That is the period of danger. Many silly fellows, impatient of their thin clothing, pierced by the frosty air, will approach the animals, during the interval, without remembering that though his voice may produce its usual effect, his costume is altogether a disguise. The man not being recognized, his strange figure may renew the general alarm: when the gangway, having on both sides the hind feet of terrified horses projected into it, becomes anything but a safe promenade.

Now, what produced this excitement of the stable? It was not the dream of one animal which caused it. That may have commenced the tumult, but it was not of itself necessary to the perpetuation of the uproar. The hoof of one quadruped striking the stall post also was distinct from the subsequent noise, which started into existence only with the spread of alarm. Then was generated the terror; for the feeling must have preceded the act, which announced itself by violence. It was the darkness or the silent solitude of the night which allowed full play to the fancy, and conjured up those shadows that drove the horses into temporary madness.

Had not the heads been fastened, the animals, by moving about, could in some measure have tested the reality of their fears. But, fastened to one spot, the fact of having no ability to escape augmented that alarm which the darkness of the stable and the oppression of silence caused and subsequently confirmed. A loose box and a little light would have rendered this noise an impossibility! The horse’s eye can see perfectly in that dusk which to the feebler vision of man might represent an approach to positive blackness. There are few horsemen who, when riding by night, have not had reason to be grateful to the keen perception of their four-footed servants. There are, however, fewer horsemen who are aware whence the animal derives this faculty of distinguishing objects in all but perfect darkness.

Cats, owls, and other creatures are popularly reported to see in the dark. The discernment of every form of vision is disabled by _perfect_ darkness; but the eyes of such animals are so constructed as to collect and reflect upon the optic nerve any remaining ray of light. The horse has an eye endowed with a similar faculty. Most people must have observed that horses assemble under the trees, and apparently sleep during the daytime. Who, however, ever beheld one of the equine race resting during the night? When summer prevails, night is the feeding time of these quadrupeds. When the flies are no longer abroad, but the dewy grass is cool and crisp to the bite,--when the absence of glare soothes the sight is the period of equine enjoyment and the season of equine watchfulness. Does not the reader acknowledge intention in such circumstances? The carnivora, all of which delight in the flesh of the steed, prowl by night, and abound in those regions of which the horse was originally a native. For the conservation of the tribe, therefore, these creatures were formed very fleet, very enduring, but no less quick to detect the approach of an enemy, being as restless by night as the beasts which esteem the horse’s carcass a favorite repast.

The steed, therefore, does not require a chandelier to be fully illumined and to be suspended in the middle of the gangway. An ordinary night light would enable the animal to see perfectly over a large building; and the expense, when divided among numerous individuals, would for each be too small for any English coin to represent. No light, however, could prevent some quadruped occasionally waking up, and in the fright of imperfect consciousness flinging out both its heels. Such accidents no forethought could anticipate. But a slight flame, only sufficient to dispel absolute darkness, would mitigate if not quite abolish those panics during which every foot in the stable is employed to create the greatest attainable noise.

There is another so-called “vice,” which is more directly brought home to the groom than any of the previous mishaps. Probably the statement may, to the reader, appear impossible, which asserts that the servant can impose upon the master so many of his own faults as proofs of “mischief” on the part of an innocent quadruped which it is the menial’s duty to look after. This cheat the fellow is enabled to practice chiefly because he is supposed to be incapable of explaining or of distorting those circumstances which he reports. Thus mishaps are called according to their final effects; and no notice is ever given to the causes which led to such results. A horse is said to have “leapt into the manger;” “to have broken loose;” “to have gnawed the collar-rope;” “to have got one leg over the collar-rope;” “to have cast itself in the collar-rope,” etc.

Were inquiries instituted, the truth, no doubt, would be speedily discovered, and long ago a remedy would have been apportioned. No domestic, however, enjoys so much of the master’s implicit confidence as he who governs the stable. Persons, moreover, of the class respectable are far more swayed by their servants than might be pleasant for the gentlemen to acknowledge. Under this feeling, a vast amount of abuse lies concealed, for the weakness is by no means responded to by respect from the inferior. The “respectable” is always asserting his dignity, and afterward compounding for hastily-spoken words. The groom neither forgets nor forgives these verbal injuries, although his mind is amply stored with maxims against upstarts, to protect his vanity from any wholesome teaching which the admonitions might convey.

Gentlemen, when detained late abroad, generally ride home fast; partly, from a consciousness that it is long past their usual hour of “retiring for the night,” and partly, because they know the groom is “waiting up” for their return. When the stable is reached, the coat of the horse may be wet with perspiration; or a badly-made saddle may have disturbed the smoothness of the hair; or the night may prove rainy, and the animal be brought home drenched to the skin. There are other causes; but be they what they may, the master walks off to bed, while the servant, noting the example, extracts from it no additional humor to discharge his duty. The man is, likewise, cross and sleepy. He turns the horse into the stall without attempting to dress it. He places oats and hay before the quadruped, and says, “If gentl’men will remain out till all ’ours o’ the night, they may sit up and dress their oss ’emselves; for it is rather too much to expect any se’vant, after a ’ard day’s work, to keep out of his bed and do it for ’em.” Accordingly, the man hurries to his room, and soon sleeps soundly.

The quadruped, when the satisfaction of hunger allows the personal feelings to be appreciated, becomes aware that the partial dryness of the coat has produced much irritability of the skin. The animal, therefore, throws itself down, and commences to enjoy the luxury of a roll among the straw. Darkness disables the vision; but, were the light at its greatest power, the horse, in its state of torture, would probably notice nothing about it, for domestication destroys the natural instincts of all animals, making man the custodian of the cares as well as the bodies of the captives. The paving of the stall, also, being highest near to the manger, the inclination of the floor, together with the writhing of the body, occasions the quadruped to insensibly slide backward, until the tension of the collar-rope forbids its further progress.

This check induces the wish to rise; an attempt is made to bring the legs under the body for that object. But as this movement is endeavored to be accomplished, the hinder shins strike violently against some hard substance. The effort is renewed again and again; till the animal, deprived of sight and prevented from supplying the loss of one sense by the exercise of another, ultimately becomes alarmed, and the struggle commences, during which the hind legs are certain to be bruised, abraded, or other evils are sure to be inflicted upon the organs of propulsion. Nor is this all the peril in which the creature is now placed. Noise awakens the natural timidity of the companions; and should other horses be startled by the violent drumming on the partitions, probably they will become the victims of alarm. The sight of the animals is likewise useless in the utter darkness; and horses, when frightened, usually “hang back,” or try to escape from the ropes which fasten the heads to the several mangers.

Under such an impulse, the obtruding legs stand a good chance of being broken; and the animal then must remain in its misery till master has approved the employment of a pistol. Should nothing beyond bruise and abrasion be present, the groom himself undertakes the immediate relief. Another man is procured, and the knot below the sinker being untied, the head is released from the manger. But it is not usual for quadrupeds, after such a misfortune, to rise immediately. However, the servant always hopes for the best, so he and his assistant jointly pull at the tail till the legs are free from impediment, and then leave the wounded creature for master’s wonder and inspection.

The remedies applied to all injuries (excepting fractures) which occur in the stable are equally simple, and few in number. These consist of a lotion, composed of two ounces of tincture of arnica, which is put into a pint bottle, to be subsequently filled up with water. This is used till all symptoms of bruise or swelling have disappeared, after which another lotion is to replace the first. This last is formed by adding one grain of chloride of zinc to every ounce of water, or one scruple to each measured pint of fluid. These lotions are to be applied frequently, not directly to the injury itself, but a sponge, saturated with each liquid, is to be squeezed dry above the sore, the moisture being allowed to trickle over the wound.

The strongest testimony, however, against stables, as such buildings are at present erected, is perhaps borne by the animals which inhabit those places. The horse is a delicate test, which man would do well to attentively observe when he is desirous of ascertaining the healthfulness of any locality. Naturally it is all animation and gayety of spirit. But, however much these qualities may be esteemed, such equine recommendations will soon fade before the joint influence of impure air and close confinement, although you may groom and feed at discretion. The natural period of life is diminished one-half, while much more than half of the remaining years is rendered useless by age, prematurely brought on by inappropriate treatment.